white lights

I already knew it was going to be a hard morning.  I woke needing coffee and conversation, both of which if I was going to get I would have to make for myself.  

I had spent all night on the edge of the Snow Dream.   As I was about to get where I wanted to be I would wake up.  Awake I would think, I’ll go there without sleep.  I would set to settling my mind but before I could put all the details I needed in place I was asleep again back at the snowy start far away from the happy ending.

It is a recurring dream. I have had it for years.  All that matters to know about it is I am cold and alone and hurt in the dark and then I’m not any of those things, the end.  If I dream the whole way through it I wake up feeling…, crap, there isn’t a good word for how I feel. 

But anyway, if I can’t it seems to leave me in a funk all day; all day looking for warmth, shelter, and safety.

I gave up trying to reach the happy ending at 5 am.  

I made coffee, let the dogs out, & slipped out to the chicken coop to throw them their breakfast.  Then to the pump to get the watering done.  As I sleepily tried to figure out which hose was which I felt the ever so slight brush of a spider glide across the back of my hand.  Instantly I retracted.   

Jumping back I caught my heel on something and toppled over backwards into the weeds.  From there on the ground I could see the spider.  She was thin and pinched, just the way I hate them, worse than just being thin and pinched she was striped too.  

For a moment I felt really bad about having to let the whole garden die, the chickens too, because sticking my hand up there on the pump again was not an option.  

In my mind a few possibilities flashed the one that stuck out was, you could get BC’s gun.  But then I sort of realized me shooting a spider off a piece of metal might not work out so well.

I got up eyeing the spider, what now? it is just you.  A chicken squawked by as if to reinforced the 'just me' aspect of the situation.  

There was something familiar in this scenario, familiar in my life.  

Along time ago I truly needed to be rescued but wasn’t.  It leaves a heavy mark.  I climbed out of something on my own because I had no choice. But it was like rounding an enchanted rosebush the wrong way; it leaves one forever searching for ways to undo dark forces that don’t exist.  

If you wonder but hey you saved yourself from this bad thing, no matter what it was, that should be better than being saved, right?  The answer is a very simple: No.  

Being helped into a life boat, being chosen, is one thing- sneaking in is quite another.

 Sure, you are alive but at what price?  

Ever noticed no one baptizes themselves? it is always by the hands of another that your soul is saved. 

I carry the doubt of a lone survivor, why was I the only one who thought I was worth saving?  

That doubt pushes me in good ways and bad.  That doubt creates deep compassion and pause I might not have otherwise had.  Doubt is the light which guides me from darkness.

             

I looked around the yard.  A watering bucket was nearby.  It was about a quarter full with water unused from yesterday.  This will have to do. 

I dumped it over the pump washing the spider to the ground.  I made a grab opening the handle unleashed an avalanche of cold water over her.   She struggled among the waves & rocks. 

I know she was there at the pump for her own reasons having nothing to do with me. 

I know she is good, having her at the edge of my garden is helpful.  

I know logically she is not a real threat to me the same as I know logically I no longer live in harms way.  Nor am I stranded in the snow, alone & hurt, waiting for a rescue that never comes.  I am not walking out alone wondering whether it matters to any one other than me if I reach the road or not. 

I closed the pump valve and I watched as the spider crawled out of the water to safety.  I wondered, do spiders have nightmares too?  

I watered the chickens, set the drip system for the garden, and a sprinkler for the thirsty yard.  I headed for the kitchen for coffee thinking I should stop having that Dream.  I don’t think I need that particular reminder of how I got here.  All the same, I can't help but to wondered how high I would have to hike if I wanted to find snow.